PHAEDRUS
He is in a tree, a tree perfectly made for a Pegasus of his size. Nesting there he bathes in the sunlight. The forest floor below is busy with the sounds of scurrying creatures hurrying this way and that eager to finish their business and move on to the next best thing. Frustrated? Maybe, but that wasn’t the whole reason that he was out here, he had been lazy through this year, spending as much time with those he cares about as he can. It wouldn’t be long before they grew up, what was a year in retrospect of that? Especially Gyps.
His brow furrows at that thought, and the chin that had previously been resting on his bent knee now was tight to his neck, eyes piercing the fog in front of him. Using his hind legs and his wings the stallion beats the massive muscles into action lunging from the branches down to the earth below. With each movement the leaves and twigs grasped at his mane, his tail, his hide scratching and clawing him begging him not to leave his newly developed haunt. With a muffled thud he lands on the pine needles and dirt that surround the snarly tree. It contorts and bends like an old man in a drab cloak withered and scarred from many years of life. The face holds an open mouth and bulbous nose that drips with sticky gold. Phaedrus chuckles at the sight. I will see you again soon my old friend With that he turns and begins to walk away.
As he does so, something catches his eye and he turns once more to the tree looking at it curiously. Another snapping of a twig and his wings partially raise in alarm. Remaining quiet he patiently waits for what must come about next, be it pleasant or not, he was ready. It wasn’t often… no never had anyone disturbed his solitude. These he had managed to keep to himself over the years, but there is always a first for everything. His blue tail switches and impatiently he waits for what will come.
His brow furrows at that thought, and the chin that had previously been resting on his bent knee now was tight to his neck, eyes piercing the fog in front of him. Using his hind legs and his wings the stallion beats the massive muscles into action lunging from the branches down to the earth below. With each movement the leaves and twigs grasped at his mane, his tail, his hide scratching and clawing him begging him not to leave his newly developed haunt. With a muffled thud he lands on the pine needles and dirt that surround the snarly tree. It contorts and bends like an old man in a drab cloak withered and scarred from many years of life. The face holds an open mouth and bulbous nose that drips with sticky gold. Phaedrus chuckles at the sight. I will see you again soon my old friend With that he turns and begins to walk away.
As he does so, something catches his eye and he turns once more to the tree looking at it curiously. Another snapping of a twig and his wings partially raise in alarm. Remaining quiet he patiently waits for what must come about next, be it pleasant or not, he was ready. It wasn’t often… no never had anyone disturbed his solitude. These he had managed to keep to himself over the years, but there is always a first for everything. His blue tail switches and impatiently he waits for what will come.
i'll carry this flag, to the grave if i must
@[riva]